


Tarantulas

by Rainbowraptor



Series: Destruction Distancing [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Animal Crossing References, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23706733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowraptor/pseuds/Rainbowraptor
Summary: Zim doesn't like being an indoor alien. He needs distractions beyond cleaning the apartment 20 times in a day.COVID-19 in the Invader Zim universe.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Destruction Distancing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707328
Comments: 12
Kudos: 90





	Tarantulas

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff just...we need all the fluff. 
> 
> This story deal with the COVID-19 pandemic so if that's a trigger for you, maybe you shouldn't read. Really though, thinking about how our two favorite dumbassess would handle this was kinda cathartic for me. 
> 
> I may make this a series. For now, here's this silly bit of fic.

Zim turned over to his side, eyes closed. Nothing. He turned over again. Nada. Zim hissed, pulling the blankets over his head. He slid forwards, pressing his body against Dib's lean and wiry frame. He lay still for as long as he could manage, listening to the human's breathing and random moments of snoring. Zim's alien skin heated nicely by the other's warmth as he took in the salty stale air of him

For a gloriously drowzee second or two, Zim felt himself beginning to drift off, but his right leg twitched and Zim found he couldn't stay still, even though he desperately wanted to. He resisted, oh how he resisted but his right leg still spasmed incessantly. With a growl, he got up in bed. Zim sat, scowling down at his sleeping mate.

Dib was not a graceful sleeper. Once upon ago, when they had both been younger and smaller, Dib had simply curled up tight into himself, wrapped a blanket around his body, and somehow contained all his usual energy during his resting state. Now, well, now it seemed he relished in taking up as much space as possible. 

Dib lay on his side, left leg stuck forward and the right back as if he was about to wake and run. Dib was also drooling a little.  _ That  _ hadn't changed.

Zim could count the stubble on the side of his human’s face. He needed a good shave. Zim thought about getting the razor, maybe even a pair of scissors too, that bolt of lighting of a lock was getting uncontrollable. Ah, Zim could just use his PAK lasers again. No one would be around to see Dib without eyebrows this time.

Deciding against all these choices (Zim wasn’t afraid but he couldn’t go anywhere until Dib calmed himself to forgive Zim for attempting to help his feeble human state), Zim climbed over Dib. The alien’s antennae twitched as he sat crossed legged, considering his next move. Like the good invader he was, Zim chose to attack. 

He whipped out one foot and dug a sharp heel nail into Dib's back, nothing deadly but enough to break skin. Exposed as it was, the human should have leapt up, screaming, and awake. Yet the human didn't. Instead, he rolled over, now facing Zim but snoring louder than before. Still out despite the fact he had to be bleeding.

Zim took his claw and poked Dib’s ear. Not inside the thing,  _ that  _ would be too disgusting but just pulling on one earlobe. The result was nothing but a groan. Zim tried another tactic, this time, simply taking his tongue and licking the humans neck.

Foul. He tasted of peanuts, sweat, salt, chocolate, and some kind of, eck, meat? Horrendous. The Dib needed a cleaning. As soon as he awoke, Zim would make sure that Dib went straight into the shower.

"Zim…" Dib moaned, "not now, sleep." Then more sounds of just that. Sleep.

Zim huffed.  _ Fine _ . He would find something else to do, something way more productive to do than lying about their room. Just because they couldn't leave their shelter, didn't mean they needed to sleep all the time like a great, big, stupid, hibernating Slorstak.

Zim left the bed and Dib to his lazy self and glanced about. As he did so, he withdrew a foil dressed snack from his PAK. Zim unwrapped the block of dark brown sweet, eating it slowly by first nibbling the colorful sprinkles one by one. 

Zim considered the desktop computer. The simple machine sat, quietly humming on the desk along the other wall. Zim dropped himself down into Dib’s probably more complex chair (Zim’s snack was definitely light years ahead of both the desktop and office seat) and booted it up. At least this thing awoke when needed. For a time, Zim watched YouTube videos, updated his blog "InvaderZimRulZ", and prattled on a couple of Dib's paranormal chat rooms. He did an AMAZING fake Dib. 

_ Agent Mothman: “HAHAHAHAHA, YES. OBVIOUSLY I DO STINK WORSE THAN A BIGFEET!” _

_ Agent Batflaps: “Finally, you make a good point.” _

Zim clicked off after a time, growing bored of this quickly. The alien watched Dib sleep a little through squinted eyes. How long had it been since the human had gone under for his biologically required rest?

A thousand hours surely.

The little mini sphere shot out of his PAK and floated in front of Zim. “Computer,” he hissed,

“Tell me the amount of unconsciousness the Dib has had.”

**“One.”** It told him.

“How many sleeps do they normally require?” He asked.

**"Aren't you in college? Shouldn't you like...know that by now?"**

Zim let out a snarl.

**"Eight, but given that Dib hasn't slept in three days. It'll probably be a great deal longer.”**

"Ughhhhhhhh." Zim groaned. He shoved the brownie into his mouth and paced the room. Should he just clean the entire apartment a third time today? No, no. No sense in wasting supplies. Zim stalked out the door, leaving in open behind him, his computer’s orb returning itself into his PAK. 

Maybe Gir could keep Zim occupied while Dib slept.

The robot was sitting on the couch, watching television, a cartoon by the look of it, Steven Galaxy or, eh, Zim forgot. In his little metal hands, Gir held a snack. Whatever it was, at least it was in a bowl this time. 

Zim eyed the blue couch, carefully making sure nothing sticky or greasy or wet was there before he risked dirtying his PJs (they were new, purple, and so very soft). Satisfied it was clear, Zim plopped down, pulling out another brownie. “Whatcha watching?” He asked, pulling apart the foil with a bit more force yet still careful and precise.

“Evan Galaxy!” Gir chirped. “Mary finally fall asleep?”

“Yeah.” Zim sighed.

“He told me to give you ‘dis.” Gir leaned forward to the coffee table in front of them. He pulled out what looked like one of Gaz’s contraptions for gaming and tossed it to Zim. “Here you go!”

Zim glared down at the odd blue and green thing and frowned. “I don’t want to play a video game. I don’t want to be trapped in this apartment with Dib. I should be out, out, doing...stuff!” Zim jumped up and started walking towards the sliding glass door. It would be simple, jump off the balcony and just...get out! He’d go...go somewhere! 

For one, Zim had plans to get revenge on that one police officer that had demanded to see Dib’s 'papers' a week ago (Zim was the only one allowed to cause the human strife, they had matching rings now and everything!) Dib's no harm rule meant he couldn't maim, brainwash, kill, melt, etc. the man so Zim had to get creative. Replacing the officer's sirens with ice cream jingles was a key part.

Or that delivery Urth slug that had brought Gir COLD pizza. Zim needed to face him and maybe make the guy cold blooded. Zim would also settle for free pizza for life.

Yes, yes. Dib and Zim risked a brisk walk or two for Gir but not being able to move about freely was insulting. No human plague had threatened him, an Irken, before and this one would be no different. 

But, as Zim raised a hand to whip the door open, he stopped, seeing himself in the reflection of the glass. He was being ridiculous, undisguised and dressed in his favorite PJs (purple with little glow in the dark stars). It was dark outside but with all those street lights, someone might see him and really, even with Zim’s amazing level of stealth, he didn’t want to get them stained with city filth and…

“Remember, just because the Death Virus can’t kill you, you could bring it to someone else much weaker and then it will kill them!” Shouted someone from the TV. Obviously, Gir had changed the channel. Zim turned away from the balcony exit. 

A human reporter was giving the report from their home as was the new norm as a few other videos played alongside their feed. It was footage of other, more vulnerable humans who had gotten the infection, coughing hard, wheezing, and struggling to breathe. There was a shot of tarp covered bodies being loaded into a mass frozen food transport vehicle. 

Zim imagined Dib being put into one of those trucks...

Gir switched the channel back to cartoons as Zim slumped down back on the couch. Really, Zim was beginning to doubt Gir was as stupid as he acted. “Hand me the toy...game...thing.” Zim pouted.

Gir flipped the blue and green plastic computer to his master with a grin before going back to watch more Evan Galaxy. 

Zim would simply play for a few hours, just a few, and then he would go wake Dib so he wouldn't be bored out of his huge, active Irken mind. He longed to torment his Love Pig or even allow the human to show Zim much needed affection. 

\---

Zim shook the tree. Nothing. He ran to another tree. Nothing. He ran to another tree, this one pointy and shaped like a Jingle Day decoration. Zim shook it. 

A single hive fell and hit the ground next to him.

Within seconds, Zim was being chased by a swarm of angry insects. He weaved to and fro, trying to find his net but of course, this was a game and he was PAKless. Plus, a stupid grey cat, Raymond, wouldn't get out of the way! Zim would've loved to have hid behind the feline, let the wasps take  _ him _ instead. But this wasn't that kind of game and Zim was cursed. 

The wasps covered Zim's face, making that horrid noise. After it was all over, Zim's human character was even uglier than before, sporting a swollen eye.

Zim scowled at the unfairness of it all. He had to fix it. But how?

He was curled up comfortably on the couch, back against one of the arms, wrapped in a blanket. Zim rather not move if he could help it. Why should he? He was Irken, he had conquered Urth's greatest defendor, there was no need for him to push himself needlessly.

"Dib!" Zim called. The human would know. It was his foul game after all. "Dibbeast! Come show Zim how to rid this worm's face of the swelling!" Zim shouted a bit louder. He watched the hall, attenene going against his skull. No sign of the stink man. Zim glanced back down at his game. The time read 12:00 pm. That meant...wait, Dib had enough time for a good 13 hour recharge. Now that  _ had  _ to be enough time for Dib to awake from his stupid human slumber.

"Gir!" He stuck a foot out and pointed it at his robot. "Go get the Dib. Tell him his master needs him." 

Gir pulled away from his cartoons, though it was a tense moment for Zim. The robot held in his hands his bowl, filled with various kinds of cereal topped with syrup and shavings of nachos. Zim didn't relish the idea of cleaning anything right now. Especially  _ that _ .

"My Lord!" Gir saluted, the bowl nearly dripping sugary mess onto the coffee table. He got off the floor and started for Dib's room. 

"Put that filth down first!" Zim hissed.

"Ahh, OKEY DOKEY!" Gir chirped. He set the food down on the coffee table, then toddled around the hall corner.

Zim ran a bit more in the game. While he waited for Dib to return, he might as well try to find more coins. He shook other trees only to have yet another wasp nest fall. Again, Zim's useless human character was unable to escape the nasty creatures. This time, instead of recovering and going on to explore, Zim's screen went black and he had to wait until the game continued, back at his stupid tent.

Zim growled. No way, he wasn't about to let a bunch of insects stop his completion of the tasks given to him by the racoon thing. He pressed on, running right back where the attack had occurred. He retrieved this new nest, shoved it in his pockets and went to shaking more trees.

Two more times. Zim was stung two fucking more times.

"Curses foul monsters, you dare to invoke my wrath?!" There was really only one way to solve the problem, he'd simply cut down every single tree, that way, the wasps would have no home. For good measure, he also tore up every flower. That had to be the way to solve everything.

"Ha, knew you'd like the game" Dib said. He was still shirtless, wearing only his loose PJ pants and glasses, nothing more. He had definitely just rolled out of bed. Dib plopped down beside Zim.

Gir ran around the living room a couple of times, screaming something about bees and a moose before falling face down into the carpet. 

Zim said nothing, only leaned close against Dib. He ignored the human's smell and just enjoyed the feel of his own soft scaley Irken flesh shuddering and trembling against Dib's in a delightful cool way. He shifted a bit, trying to get perfectly comfortable. Zim took Dib's arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. He also allowed Dib to watch him play. Despite Zim's earlier frustration at the human for sleeping so long, Zim was glad to have him around now.

Shockingly glad. As Zim played, he thought of the earlier footage from the news. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't.

Zim stopped only to climb into Dib's lap. He ignored Dib's jibes and gentle mocking comments and lay back against Dib, head under Dib's chin, Dib's arms wrapped around Zim's middle. The two sat together under the blanket, enjoying the game.

"What...what happened to all the plants?" Dib asked. "And your face? You can make medicine to fix that you know."

"The shrubbery was only hiding places for Zim's enemies." Zim said. "So I chopped them up, tore them from the ground, and used them to build useful things. I'll plant more later. Or maybe I won't." Zim laughed. "I don't need to have any on  _ my  _ island." He preened.

The whole ordeal had taken a lot of axes, some manipulation of the game's inner time mechanism, and the like, but he felt like he was near to his ideal town. He was the best island representative after all.

"And of course Zim knows how to make medicine, Sprocket gave me the recipe. Building the perfect empire is more important than Zim's mangled character!" He took an internal note to craft some medicine later. 

"You know the sun sets at 7pm in game." Dib stated. 

"So? What's your point? My game human needs no sleep if that's what you worried about." Zim said.

"No, that's not it at all. I think you might want to be careful. Maybe keep your net out Space Boy." Dib laughed.

Zim snorted. "There's nothing left to hurt Zim. The villagers are harmless and even the one ghost in the game is more pathetic than Urth's humans."

At about 8:00 pm, the first tarantula showed up. An expert in all of Urth's disgusting lifeforms, Zim recognized it immediately. It was currently skittering around a river bend and hadn't seen Zim yet.

Zim froze, not sure what to do.

"Hey, why don't you go try to make friends?" Dib said."

Zim needs no more friends." Zim huffed. "Sprocket is enough." He pulled out his bug net. "But the owl will definitely want one." Zim relished the idea of shoving the tarantula into the owl's wings and demanding all the information about the arachnid. New knowledge and a chance to inflict torment. It was one of Zim's favorite parts of this game, right under being able to effectively rule the world actually.

"I'm sure it's lonely. He's a fellow spider, sure he'll just love you." Dib said, giving Zim's middle a little squeeze.

"Lies, you speak lies fool boy!" Zim scoffed. Suddenly, the tarantula turned and lifted it's legs in the air. 

"See, it's saying hi!" Dib chuckled. "Ready for hugs."

"Silence!" Zim walked forward ingame. He had to get rid of this monstrosity, for the good of his island. The thing kept half it's body off the ground for a second, then, with a hiss and a single hop, it lept in the air, and ran at Zim.

"Fuck, run!" Dib shouted.

"Halloween!" Gir squealed.

"Why?!" Zim screamed.

"I'll call the cops again, I swear!" Shouted their neighbor, Mr. Shady. 

In the game, Zim took off in the opposite direction. Luckily the spider was slower than the wasps and the lack of trees made it easier to keep up a good distance. That is, until Zim ran into a dead end, a villager watering some flowers. 

A fucking cat in a suit.

Raymond.

Realizing that there was no escape, Zim did what he'd do in real life if he was PAKless and unable to simply use Raymond as a well dressed and furry shield against this vile threat. He snapped around and, with one quick tap of a button, captured the huge hairy monster. 

Behind him, he saw Raymond clapping.

"Holy shit!" Dib chuckled. "Whoa, you got skills!"

Zim laughed. "Of course! Now I shall donate to the owl and continue with my work!" He did just that, however, as he was leaving the museum, he found four more tarantulas. Three he caught, the last bit him and had him waking up on his front lawn.

It seemed the missing trees and flowers meant more of the big nasty bugs spawned during night. Zim didn't mind of course. The tarantulas were out in the open unlike the wasps and, once Zim got the hang of things, he easily caught every single one.

By 10:00 pm, both in-game and in real life time, Zim had caught over fifty tarantulas. Blathers couldn't take more beyond the first and Zim found making a wall of tarantulas around his home to be less impressive in actuality than in his mind (the game only a certain amount of tarantulas to be stacked). 

So, he brought them to the raccoon's spawn after some time traveling. The first batch, about 29 in total (Zim refused to go anywhere without one bug net in hand and another just in case that one broke) sold for 232,000 bells. 

"That's a lot of munnies." Gir said from his perch on top of the couch behind them. "So many pizzas we could buy."

"Man, too bad  _ our _ hunting doesn't bring in this much cash." Dib said. "I could quit that other job easy."

Zim felt the need to get up and stretch and maybe get something to eat but they had 21 more tarantulas to sell. As he went to go fetch them, he chidded, "It could if we hunted _wealthy_ _humans_ instead of ghosts and demons."

Dib took his arms away from holding Zim (how dare he) and placed his hands on Zim's head, he flicked one of Zim's attentae. "No Zim, for the hundredth time, we aren't killing the rich." 

Zim hissed, and twisted around to snarl at Dib and maybe even bite him but the man quickly stroked the offended appendage.

"Though, maybe, we could do something about  _ certain _ ones who helped make this huge mess." Dib sighed. "Anything happened while I was out? Did President Dump call to reopen The City despite my dad's warnings?

Zim relaxed under Dib's fingers. "No idea." He turned back around. "Doesn't matter, you aren't going anywhere despite what your brain dead leader orders." 

"You got an idea on how to pay for this?" Dib asked. "I'm not asking my dad for money and work isn't going to be paying me after my vacation days run out. Gir's weird food...uh... hobby is enough to bankrupt us alone. Unless  _ you _ want to work while going to classes... I'm going to have to go back."

"Visit the pig!" Gir shouted. "Visit the pig!"

"No Gir," Zim said. "Curly is asleep. We'll try tomorrow." He quickly added, expecting Gir to start rioting. Mr. Shady didn't need to be pushed again tonight.

With the last batch of tarantulas sold, Zim saved and turned off the game. He checked the time. 12:12 AM. After he fixed the console's internal clock, Zim lay it down on the table. He stretched, twisting his body left, the right before finally laying on his side, head in Dib's lap. Zim stared at the black screen of the powered down TV.

Dib sighed. "Well, you gotta plan? We need money Zim."

Zim flipped onto his back, a position he only enjoyed when around the Dib, and squinted up at his mate. "Of course Zim has a plan, Zim has several plans." 

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Ones that don't include murder, maiming, and destruction?"

Zim opened his mouth.

"And making horrible monstrosities?"

Zim closed his mouth.

Dib groaned. "Zim. Come on. Really, after all this time?"

"Fine, since you insist for  _ some reason  _ not to entertain those plans, Zim will just share the ideas that are more boring and  _ humane _ ."

"Oh, hold on. This will be good." Dib lay on his back on the couch and pulled Zim on top of him. "OK, ready." He yawned.

Zim curled his claws underneath his chest and lay on his stomach. He looked away from the TV. "Plan one: Zim invents a brilliant line of frozen food meals."

"Let me guess, waffles?" Dib asked.

"Yes, but that's just one of the varieties. French toast is another. We learned about these things called medilunas yesterday in class and Zim is confident how to make them to perfection."

"Hmmmm, that actually might work. If Gir doesn't eat all of the product. Alright, tell me about plan two." Dib pressed, lazily rubbing the space around Zim's PAK. It felt nice and Zim was calmer than he'd been in days.

"Plan Two: Gir makes a few more songs, sells them for profit. At least he could pay for his...eh, as you put it, food hobby with the royalties." Zim felt his eyelids droop. Maybe it was time for him to recharge. How long had it been? A week? Two? Fuck. Zim couldn't remember the last time he'd actually rested.

Of course, Irkens didn't  _ need _ to sleep but Zim, as he found about many things while on Urth, had learned it was a pleasant way to ease stress and pass the time.

It seemed Dib was nearing another sleep as well. His heartbeat was slowing, fingers losing strength. "He is good at making a tune." Dib hummed a few bars of  _ Peace is Nice _ .

Zim laughed softly. "Yes, yes he is." 

The little robot was now curled up on the arm of the couch at their feet, seemingly passed out himself. 

The sight made Zim calm even more. "Plan Three…" He began and yawned. "Plan Three is...you."

"Me?" Dib blinked slowly. "What you mean Lizard Breath?"

"You write a book about everything. What they call a "tell-all"" Zim smiled. "It'll make for a good  _ fiction _ novel."

"Haha." Dib said.

"Or, ya know, a children's series. About your mothman. Or..." For a second, Zim nodded off. "Something."

"Next…" Dib ordered. "Don't like this one."

"Fine." Zim huffed but he felt no anger. "Plan Four: Hold on for this one Dibbeast cuz it involves chickens…well have to stock up on your pink pills."

"No. Next." Dib said.

"Plan Five…" Zim slurred. "Plan...plan five…" 

"Later, I think…" Dib snorted. "Think it's time for us to  _ both _ rest."

Zim didn't fight or argue. He just relaxed and let go. Though the virus had brought a lot of annoyances, frustrations, and new rules to navigate, it meant there was now a sort of slowing to the world. 

Zim and Dib had time to work things out.

"Ha," Zim quipped, "you first, your...eh, your...feeble human body clearly didn't get enough...lazy...er, lazy..." He trailed off. Happy and content in Dib's arms, Zim finally drifted off too sleep.


End file.
